it_ level from the shore. It was through this level
that the water would have to escape. At the mouth of it a number of men
assembled to see Old Maggot go in. In he went, alone, with a bunch of
candles, and, as he walked along, he stuck a lighted candle every here
and there against the wall to light him out,--for he expected to have to
run for it.

"When he came to the place, the water was spirting out everywhere. But
Old Maggot didn't mind. He grasped his hammer and borer and began. The
work was done sooner than he had expected! Suddenly the rock gave way
and the water burst upon him, putting out his candle and turning him
heels over head. He jumped up and tried to run, but the flood rose on
him, carried him off his legs, swept him right through the level, and
hurled him through the adit-mouth at last, upon the sea-shore! He was
stunned a little, but soon recovered, and, beyond a few bruises and a
wetting, was nothing the worse of his adventure.

"_That_," said Captain Jan, pointing to the rock beside us, "was the
place where Old Maggot holed to the house of water, and _this_ was the
level through which he was washed and through part of which I will now
conduct you."

Accordingly, we traversed the level, and, coming to another shaft,
continued our upward progress.

While we were slowly toiling up, step by step, we were suddenly arrested
by the sound of voices singing in the far distance above us. The music
was slow and solemn. Coming as it did so unexpectedly in such a strange
place, it sounded quite magical and inexpressibly sweet.

"Miners descending to work," said my guide, as we listened. The air was
familiar to me, and, as it grew louder and louder, I recognised that
beautiful tune called "French," to which we are accustomed to sing the
121st Psalm, "I to the hills will lift mine eyes." Gradually the men
came down to us. We stood on one side. As they passed they ceased
singing and nodded to Captain Jan. There were five or six stout fellows
and a boy. The latter was as active as his companions, and his treble
voice mingled tunefully with theirs as they continued the descent, and
resumed the psalm, keeping time to the slow measured tread of their
steps. We watched until their lights disappeared, and then resumed our
upward way, while the sweet strains grew fainter and fainter, until they
were gradually lost in the depths below. The pleasant memory of that
psalm still remained with me, when I